by Melanie Ting
Fuck. Poor Josie. I had done that to her. What would that mean to her work? She couldn’t do either job with a collapsed lung. Would there be long-term effects? And I remembered how much she hated hospitals. Guilt was swirling around my mind.
Josie had already been transferred to a room, and the nurse outside murmured something about immediate family only, but Cst. Vinci walked right in and I followed her.
Josie was lying in bed, asleep. With no make-up on and only the pale blue hospital gown, she looked completely different. She looked younger and more vulnerable. She was still beautiful, but in a completely different way. Her beauty was pure and clean under all those protective layers. My heart pounded in my chest as if it were trying to leap out and find its mate—her heart.
The nurse smoothed the sheet over Josie. “She’s been through a lot tonight. She was awake through the insertion, but afterwards we gave her something for the pain. It may be a while until she wakes up.”
Cst. Vinci asked the nurse a few more questions and then left.
“You should be leaving too,” the nurse said.
“Please. I want to stay here until she wakes up.”
She frowned. “Shouldn’t you go home and get some sleep? You’re not even supposed to be here.”
“I’m her boyfriend. I was driving the truck she was in.” I yanked at my hair, pushing it away from my face.
The nurse seemed to be deciding if I was a threat to hospital security. I smiled and tried to look friendly and safe. “Please? Nobody cares more about Josie than I do. I won’t be able to sleep until I get to talk to her.”
She must have had a romantic side, because she finally nodded. “Okay. But you might want to wash up. There’s a bathroom down the hall.”
I followed her and went into the washroom. I looked like hell. I washed my face and pulled off my t-shirt and tried to clean off the smears of blood and dirt. I had gotten my wallet and phone back from Cst. Vinci, and I debated whether I should call my parents. But it wasn’t like anyone was going to phone them—this wasn’t Nelson, and I was an adult. I could tell them in the morning.
I went back to Josie’s room and watched her sleeping. The planes of her face were so right—her high cheekbones and the delicate square of her chin. I didn’t know why she even wore false eyelashes, because her eyelashes were naturally long. I reached out and touched the smooth skin of her cheek. I ran my fingers down to her lips and felt their softness. I wanted to kiss her too, but Josie might not like that.
I pulled the chair right up beside her bed. I laid my cheek against her warm arm. She was alive, and she was going to be all right. The only question was whether she would forgive me for what had happened—and if things would be the same between us. I really didn’t want to think about the alternative, because without Josie I would be fucked.
“Who the hell are you?”
A woman’s voice woke me up. I had fallen asleep with my head on Josie’s bed. I blinked and sat up. There was sunlight coming in the blinds, so it was morning.
“I’m Eric,” I replied stupidly. “Uh, Eric Fairburn.”
She was tall with long dark hair and an angular face. She looked vaguely familiar. Her dress and jewellery looked expensive.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
I stood up and walked closer so we wouldn’t wake up Josie.
“I’m her boyfriend. Who are you?”
“I’m Josephine’s sister. You’re her boyfriend? You’re hardly her type. Were you the one driving the truck?” She said “truck” like she meant “piece of shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, well done. She rides that stupid motorcycle—which I’ve warned her is really a donor-cycle—but you’re the one who lands her in the hospital. What do you do?”
I wasn’t fully awake, so I just kept answering her questions. “I’m a hockey player.”
“Okay, now I really don’t believe you’re her boyfriend. Josephine has as much interest in sports as I have in—” she paused, and just then a tall man walked in. He was dressed in a dark suit and looked like a successful businessman. “—legal matters.”
“Cynthia, you’re here already.” He glanced at Josie, who was still asleep and then gave me a questioning look.
I introduced myself and offered my hand. He ignored it, but replied, “I’m Richard, Josephine’s brother.
“He’s the driver,” Cynthia said. Again, it sounded like she meant “piece of shit.” The two of them walked over to the bed and looked down at Josie.
Richard spoke in a low tone to his sister. “I spoke to the doctor. Apparently, the fractured ribs mean that she can’t do anything strenuous for up to a month. There’s also a possibility of infection in her lung. You’re going to have to look after her.”
“Thanks, Richard. If you knew what a pain it was to even get a babysitter so I could come here first thing in the morning. I don’t mind doing it, but you know exactly what kind of patient she’s going to be. She’s so prickly. I would have loved to look after the old JoJo, but not this one.”
“I’ll do it,” I offered. I stood at the foot of her bed and smiled at both of them. I was acutely aware that right now I didn’t look like someone to whom you’d hand over someone you cared about. But frankly, it didn’t sound like either of them cared that much. “I have hockey, but I can look after her when I don’t have games or practice.”
Cynthia looked like she was going to argue with me, but Richard held up a hand to shush her. “Eric, Josephine has a family who can look after her. I’m sure she’ll contact you as soon as she’s feeling better, but for now—I think the best thing would be to give her some space.”
No way. I had been through this before with Gary. Once you were out, you never got back in. “No. I’m sorry. But I really want to stay until Josie—Josephine—wakes up and then talk to her. I have to know how she’s feeling.”
“Perhaps I’m being too polite. I’m a lawyer. When the hospital called in the middle of the night to let us know that Josephine had been admitted, I contacted a friend in the police department to find out what had happened. Apparently, this isn’t your first accident, Eric. You’re a drunk driver and a poor excuse for a human being. If I find out that my little sister is even breathing the same air as you, I will get a restraining order. And you can be sure that you’ll be facing a lawsuit for the injuries you’ve inflicted upon her.”
He stopped talking and watched my face carefully, to make sure that I had heard everything he said.
“But... I wasn’t even drinking last night. It was an accident.”
“Taking responsibility for your actions is the only way to grow up. You shouldn’t even be on the road. Now, please—get out.”
My fingers tightened on the rail at the bottom of the hospital bed. I looked at Josie, wishing that she’d wake up and tell everyone what she wanted. But she lay there, her body straight and arms at her side, in the same position as when the nurse had tucked her in. I could see the dent in the blankets where my head had been.
What struck me now was how little her family seemed to care about Josie herself. They saw her as an obligation and a victim, but nobody had even touched her yet.
I walked up the opposite side of the bed, then leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.
“Bye, Josie.” I’d leave now, since there was no point in antagonizing this guy. But the only person who could tell me to stay away from her would be Josie herself.
23
More, More, More
I was sitting dazed in my suite when I got a text from Coach Panner that he wanted me to come to the rink and see him in the afternoon. So much had happened in the past 24 hours that I had almost forgotten about hockey. Usually hockey was all I could think about.
I showered on automatic. My chest felt tender where the airbag had expanded against it. I stretched my neck and that was a little sore too. I had a few cuts and scrapes, but that was nothing compared to Josie. That familiar sense of guilt was washing over me like the wat
er pouring down. Why was I always the one who walked away? Why was I the golden boy? And if I was lucky, why did luck feel so shitty?
After I ate lunch, I forced myself to write a list of things to do. I needed to pick up a rental car. Cst. Vinci had said that the damage to my truck was repairable, and I needed to file a claim and get the truck to an auto body shop. Now that I was staying in Vancouver, I’d need to find a new place to live, although Joe seemed pretty happy to have an excuse not to start another set of renovations. A few guys had mentioned finding a place together, but nobody had wanted to jinx things by assuming he would make it. Of course, my ultimate fantasy would be moving in with Josie.
Josie. Seeing her lying in the hospital bed had been a huge shock. She had never looked so helpless. Josie used her clothes, her attitude, and her words to keep people away—even me. All I wanted was to penetrate that armour, but not like this. Now I saw that she was part of a complicated family, who were all as assertive as she was. Even though her brother and sister had been called in the middle of the night, they hadn’t bothered coming until the morning. Did anyone actually care about her in the normal loving way? And where were her mom and dad? My dad might be full of criticism and expectation, but when I was in the accident, he was right there for me. The more I knew about Josie, the less I knew who she was. We knew each other so intimately, but we hardly knew the normal stuff because Josie had forbidden those conversations.
None of this made me feel any less for Josie. It only made me care about her more since she seemed to be so alone. But at the same time, I was struck by the short timeline between realizing I was in love with Josie and something bad happening to her. It was like my love was some kind of curse.
I hustled out to get a rental car and then headed up to the arena. Panner’s office was hidden away down in a cement bunker between the arena and the small gym.
His door was shut, and I knocked on it.
“Yeah?”
I poked my head in. “Hey, Coach. You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah, Fairburn. Come in.”
I sat down across the desk from him. He had an unfamiliar expression on his face and I tried to place it. He looked—happy. He usually looked completely pissed off. I smiled at him.
“I hear you’ve been a busy boy,” he said.
“I have?” What was he talking about? Sure, I’d been in the accident, but there was no way he could know about that already.
“Yeah. So, tell me about your relationship with Josephine MacMillan.”
“Who?”
He scowled at me. “Guys like you make me sick to my stomach.”
Then he started clicking his computer mouse. He turned the screen to face me. It was a screenshot from the local newspaper. I scanned stories about declining fish stocks and a pending garbage strike.
“On the side.” Panner pointed his finger.
Car accident injures two
Josephine MacMillan, daughter of prominent Vancouver lawyer Grant MacMillan, has been hospitalized with serious injuries following a late night car crash in Point Grey. Ms. MacMillan was in a vehicle driven by Eric Fairburn, who plays for the Vancouver Vice, an AHL team better known for its exploits off the ice. The team was involved in a bar fight last year which resulted in $900,000 in damages to The Backdoor Pub. There were also sexual assault charges filed against three members of the team, but later dropped.
The driver of the other vehicle has not been identified, and is also in hospital. According to a police source, charges will be laid in the incident.
Josephine MacMillan. I was in love with her, and I didn’t even know her real name. C’mon, Josie, it was one thing to skip the conventional stuff, but not even to tell me who you really are? I rubbed my temples. It was like my brain was being assaulted by too many things at once.
I looked up at Panner. He was definitely smiling now. His spirit animal would have been the fox—the trickster, full of cunning and deceit. I braced myself for what was going to happen next.
“You okay, Fairburn? You look fine. Looking at you, I wouldn’t have guessed what an eventful night you’ve had.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No. I’m from Nelson.”
“So, you probably don’t know that Grant MacMillan is head of the biggest law firm in the city: MacMillan, Brunswick, Carr.”
I shook my head. Now Josie’s expensive condo was making sense.
“Yeah, your little puck fuck’s dad advises the mayor, among other important people. He’s buddies with the Richardsons too.” They were the team’s owners.
“Excuse me, Coach. Josie is my girlfriend. She’s not some girl I picked up.”
“Don’t give me that horseshit. You don’t even know her name. You fuck girls and forget all about them. You’re a dog without a sense of morals. I know guys like you.” Panner’s face was filled with loathing as he looked at me.
“Guys like me? What does that mean?”
“Guys like you make me sick. You’re a first round draft pick. You’ve got all the tools. You’ve got the leadership and the ‘media-friendly’ looks. But all you do is piss it away. Do you know how many guys bust their asses to get even one of the opportunities you’ve been handed?”
He rose from his seat and leaned towards me with his hands planted on the edge of the desk. “When I made it to the show, I didn’t unpack for three months. I kept thinking that I was going to get sent down. I took it one day at a time and I worked. I worked like someone who knows exactly how many guys would cut off their right ball to be in my shoes. One hundred and forty-eight games in the NHL, and I never took one of them for granted.”
I watched him, wordless. I knew he disliked me, but I thought it was something we could work through.
“I didn’t even want to sign you. I told Ian you were going to screw up. I can see how good you are, but I also know your track record. As soon as there’s any kind of pressure, you crack.” He pointed to his forehead. “You don’t have the mental toughness to make it. I was sure you went out and got plastered during camp, but I had no proof. But even I couldn’t have guessed that you’d fuck up before the season started.”
“Coach, get serious. This accident was not my fault.” I didn’t know the exact circumstances yet, but I hadn’t been drinking or speeding or disobeying any road rules.
“Not like the last time? See, the team dodged a bullet. If that lazy reporter had bothered to Google your name, this story would have been a whole lot juicier. Eric Fairburn, drunk driver who already ended the career of an NHL prospect, has injured the daughter of a prominent Vancouver lawyer. Must be those great reflexes. Do you steer the car at the last moment to ensure that the passenger side takes the full impact? Then you can walk away.”
I felt the red heat of anger rising up, and I took calming breaths. Control that anger. Channel that anger.
“I’m not in that space now. I don’t drink and drive anymore.”
“I can see right through you and all this new age shaman shit that you spout. You’re a fuck-up, and I don’t want you on this team. You’re out.”
“How can you do that? I told you, it was an accident. I’m not at fault.”
“I had that morals clause built into your contract, because I knew. Your car crash has triggered it. Anything that brings notoriety to the team, and a story in the local media like this is enough.”
“All the notoriety in this story is due to things that happened before I even got here.” Under your morals watch, I thought, but I didn’t say that. He was blinded by his own prejudices. Anyone who took a different route from him wasn’t good enough for his team. He was small-minded in ways I’d never be able to reach.
“You can bet that her daddy is going to sue your ass. This is a guy who sued his own brother. We need to get clear of that fallout. Leave your passcard here and clear out your locker. Since your contract doesn’t go into effect until the first day of the season, we owe you nothing.” He s
at down and reached for the phone. “Send up someone from security. I need him to escort Eric Fairburn to his locker and then out of the building.”
I was loading my gear into the back of the rental car when I saw Rams walking towards the rink. I nodded at him, but he ducked his head. I had a sudden flash of intuition.
“Hey,” I called out and ran after him.
He turned slowly. “S’up, Burner?”
“I just got cut from the team.”
He looked down and then raised his eyes to meet mine. “Really? That’s too bad.”
“You don’t sound surprised.”
He smiled slightly. “Well, I knew about your car crash. You okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine. Are you the one who told Panner?”
He shrugged. “I’m the captain, it’s part of my job to keep the coach informed of what’s going on with the team.”
I thought back to what Josie had said about Rams, and how right she had been. “That’s fucked. The captain’s job is also to lead the team. Tell me—since I’m leaving anyway—why did you want me to get cut? I could have helped us win.”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing personal. You’re good and you’ll get on somewhere else, I’m sure. Just not here. This is my house.” Then he walked away.
I watched him go through the doors and disappear. The guy was ten kinds of an asshole, but I couldn’t blame him for anything that had happened.
Rams wanted to be the best player on the team. He wanted to make the NHL as much as I did, and having me showing him up was not going to help that. Getting a break meant making your own breaks—no matter what the human cost. That was what happened when you wanted something this badly.
Fuck this. My mind was ready to explode with all the crap getting thrown at me. I drove back to my suite and threw my hockey gear into the corner. Now what? Go home? Go to Switzerland? All I wanted to do was see Josie and hold her. But at the same time, I was angry at her. How could she not even tell me her real name?
I remembered all the time I had spent searching for her online. No wonder nothing had come up. I was searching for a ghost. Josie Ray must be her acting name. I punched Josephine MacMillan into Google search.
